


Letters to the Oracle

by GinAndShatteredDreams



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Letters, Pen Pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8621755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinAndShatteredDreams/pseuds/GinAndShatteredDreams
Summary: For day 2 of Ford safety week:Stan inadvertently suggests a way Ford might be able to contact Jhesselbraum and he takes a chance in hopes of reaching out to his old friend across dimensional barriers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: death and suicide mention (in scenarios which never actually happened.)  
> Ford speaks poorly of himself in the beginning because... I mean... it's just what he does. Poor Ford and his guilt and insecurities...
> 
> Also I wrote this entirely while at work and in one day so sorry if it's not as fleshed out as it could be. This is basically what I'd normally consider a first draft.

Early September brought a cool breeze to the forest making Stanford’s morning walks infinitely more pleasant. Pine scented air brushed against his cheeks as he strolled toward the Mystery Shack with a light smile on his face and his hands tucked in his pockets. His pace quickened as he spotted Stan crouched in a patch of dried grass beside the bottomless pit, staring into it’s depths.

“Good morning, Stanley,” he waved to his twin.

“Oh, hey. Mornin’ Ford,” Stan replied, his eyes fixed on the pit.

Ford Grunted as he crouched beside his brother, mocking his pose. “So, what are we looking for?” he asked, craning his neck to look down into the blackened abyss, “Did you drop something in there?”

“Yeah but it was on purpose,” Stan answered, with a wave of his hand “I’m just making sure it don’t come back.”

Ford chuckled, “Most things do at some point but did you know that whatever doesn’t come back ends up in other dimensions?”

Stan turned to face his brother, his stare broken by a single incredulous blink. “So,” he began hesitantly, “That means some alien somewhere might have all of my arrest warran- I mean old documents I didn’t feel like buying a shredder for?”

“Hmm.  If some of those were in my name it might explain why the bounty on my head suddenly went up a few years ago,” Ford muttered, tapping a finger to his singed stubble.

“Huh, whazzat?” Stan asked, his attention focused back on the pit.

“Oh nothing.”

“Welp, it’s been a good hour so I guess it’s gone to some er… other dimension,” Stan said, lifting himself to his feet with a groan. He looked down to find Ford wincing as he tried to stand. “Ok there, Poindexter?” he asked, offering him his hand.

“Oh, thank you, Stanley,” he said as he wrapped his hand around his brother’s arm and felt Stan return the gesture. With Stan’s help and a fair amount of pain surging through his knee, he managed to upright himself. “I do enjoy this cooler weather but it certainly wreaks havoc on old injuries. I wish I would have figured out that wearing knee pads was a good idea before smashing this one,” he explained, tapping his right leg just above his knee, “when I fell into the skateboarding dimension. But I suppose being an example of what not to do might have set the teens that found me on a better path. They showed up at the hospital one day wearing their own sets and gifted a set to me.”

“Skateboarding dimension,” Stan parroted in a deadpan tone, “Yer, kidding me, right?”

“Not at all-”

“Hey,” Stan interrupted, his hand resting on Ford’s shoulder to steady them both, “If this here hole connects to other dimensions, why’d ya’ need to build a portal in the basement?”

“Because this is only a weak tear in the fabric separating our worlds which gives you a one way ticket to whatever random dimension it decides to drop you in. However, it’s also exactly what I was trying to harness with the portal except, I had hoped to create a gate which would allow travel to user-chosen dimensions as well as provide a gateway back.”

“So that’s why that Bill guy couldn’t get into our world using that?” Stan pointed to the pit.

“Well… yes and no but it would have been far too much of a gamble. If he traveled through a similar tear the chances that he’d enter our world through this one were so slim that it wouldn’t have been worth trying…” Ford trailed off, his melancholy tone telling a tale deeper than his words cared to admit.

Stan raised an eyebrow and ventured to ask, “You know because you tried, didn’t you?”

“…Yes. It never ended well.”

“Heh,” Stan chuckled, “I suppose if you sent out several thousand copies of something, one of them might end up in the dimension you were aiming for, eh?”

“Ha, yes I suppose-” Ford’s voice cut off in an abrupt inhalation, the sound of an idea popping into his mind.

“Oh no, what are you thinkin’ there, ya’ nerd?”

“Is it really possible?” he muttered, pressing the first joint of his forefinger to his lips, “YES. It’s a long shot but it is possible!” His fist pounded into his hand.

“Stanford? You still with me there?” Stan asked, tapping his brother’s shoulder.

“Yes! Stan you’re a genius!” He shouted with a smile and wrapped his brother in a back cracking hug.

“Okay, um thanks? Can a genius catch a breath of air around here,” he gasped.

“Oh my, yes, my apologies,” Ford released his twin, “It’s just, there’s someone in another dimension who was a dear friend of mine and I’ve missed her immensely over the years. I’d thought communication with her would be impossible now but perhaps you’ve discovered a way. I-I have to go,” Ford sped toward the shack, his boots kicking up a trail of dust. “I can write it in code so if any of the copies end up in the wrong hands, they won’t know what it is…”  
  
His voice trailed off leaving Stan scratching his head with only a vague idea of what his brother was planning. He shrugged, figuring he'd just leave him to it.

Ford's steps clomped and cracked across the porch, into the hall and through the door to his bedroom. He flopped into his desk chair and set to writing out a draft. The sunlight shifted from bright yellow to a golden glow as he revised his words and coded the final copy of his letter to Jheselbraum:

  
_Dearest Jheselbraum,_

_How have you been these past years? Has everything been well at the temple? I hope this letter has found its way to you so I may thank you again for your help all those years ago. Your assistance was invaluable and you were a dear friend in a time when I had none. By now you must have heard of the successful defeat of Bill Cipher (My apologies. Writing his name these days makes me shudder) by my brother and family. Perhaps you had already foreseen exactly how the events would unfold. Or perhaps prophecies are not so easily interpreted._  
_I imagine that when you mentioned I had the face of a man who would defeat Bill, you must have seen my brother, Stanley’s face. I suppose it is possible you knew it was him but spared me the truth to avoid interrupting a time line which ended with the defeat of Cipher. If that is the case, I understand why it was necessary and thank you for preserving any outcome which rids the multiverse of that monster._  
_In any case, Stanley triumphed in the end thanks to our similar appearance and some swift thinking on his part. We are not completely identical but the resemblance is close enough that we were able to switch clothing and pass as each other in a last-ditch attempt to defeat the demon. It was Stanley who proposed the plan and sacrificed his mind and memories to ensure its success. He is the hero who saved the universe, multiple universes, and myself, not me. He, and my great-niece and nephew, all of whom I wish you could meet. They are lovely people and I am overjoyed that they are a part of my life now. You may already have seen that it was my great-niece Mabel and her incredible scrapbook which helped bring Stanley’s memories back. I am eternally grateful to them all._  
_In truth, it was also Stanley who sparked the idea of how I might attempt to contact you again. If this succeeds and I receive some sign of it, I will write again and gush about them all. For now I shall sign off and simply hope this letter makes it to its destination._

_Best wishes to you and thank you once more for all you have done._

_Stanford Pines_

  
He signed off with a drawing of his six fingered hand, a symbol he hoped Jheselbraum or one of her disciples would recognize and which any bounty hunters still searching for him would ignore. He spent his spare time for the next few weeks folding at least two thousand copies of the letter and letting them flutter one by one into the bottomless pit. Any it spat back at him were immediately dropped in again.

He waited every day for a reply, sometimes pacing near the pit until remembering that if his letter had arrived, any reply would make it into his hands safely thanks to the clairvoyance of its recipient. Nearly a month later, Stan happened to walk by the pit in time for a letter to flutter up from its depths and plaster itself to his face. He peeled the folded paper away from his glasses and glanced at the emblem of an axolotl stamped on the front. _Huh,_ he thought. _Didn’t Poindexter mention something about these guys being connected to that alien lady he was trying to write to? Yeah. I remember. He definitely did._

He made a run for the Mystery Shack's door and burst through, searching the house for his brother. He found him in the kitchen, leaning over a sprawled avalanche of books and papers, massaging his forehead in frustration over something Stan knew he didn’t even want to ask about (unless he wanted to take a nice nap while Ford slipped into an abundance of long, sciencey words while explaining.)

“Hey, Ford!” he sputtered, gaining his brother’s attention. He waved the letter with a yellow-toothed smile and teased, “I think you got a letter back from yer interdimensional girlfriend!”

“What? Really?” Ford’s entire demeanor lifted in joy as he scrambled out of his chair. He readjusted himself and added with a reduction in his enthusiasm, “Except she’s not my girlfriend. She’s an oracle who has taken a vow of celibacy.”

“I bet she was hot…” Stan taunted, handing ford the letter with a waggle of his eyebrow.

“Well,” Ford shrugged, “I found her quite aesthetically pleasing. She’s at least twelve feet tall, has seven eyes, and-”

“Aaaaalrighty then. I draw the line at clearly not human,” Stan joked, “You can keep yer alien goddess or whatever.”

Ford’s cheeks puffed out in annoyance, “Stanley, you know very well that I’m-,”

“Yeah yeah, I know. I’m just kidding with you.”

“Oh. Right. Yes, of course,” he said, taking his seat again and unfolding the letter.

“So is it from her?”

“Yes! This is incredible! Amazing! I never thought it would be possible! Thank you for the inspiration to try this, Stan.”

“Yeah yeah. So what’s it say?”

“Well, I’ll have to take a moment to decode it…”

“Holy hot cakes, you two are NERDS!”

“What’s nerdy about sending coded letters to each other to avoid bounty hunters and any residual Bill supporters from interpreting them? Did you know that the breaking of the Enigma codes was invaluable to the Allies during World War II and…”

“Alright Alright. I get it. I don’t need the lecture.” Stan sighed, “I guess I’ll leave you to it, then. Have fun or something…”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know what she wrote once I’ve finished,” he said, already jotting down notes.

With the room to himself, Ford made short work of deciphering Jheselbraum’s reply:

  
    _Dearest Stanford,_

_You cannot imagine my joy when I awoke one morning with a vision of a flood of letters released into the multiverse, all trying to reach my shrine. I managed to intercept multiple copies across the span of worlds connected to mine. I must say, decoding your message was so much fun I opted to try it without applying my clairvoyance. Mostly. I only cheated a little in the beginning._  
_Congratulations on you and your family’s triumph over Bill Cipher. Countless worlds send their deepest gratitude. The celebrations of freedom form Cipher’s tyrannical reign are ongoing into the indefinite future in some corners of the multiverse. I have numerous visions daily of families reunited and worlds overthrowing what remain of his minions. Peace and an appropriate amount of chaos shall be restored soon if my predictions hold true. The multiverse and myself will be forever grateful to you and your family…_  
_Which brings me to the next point I must address. Regarding my previous prophecy in which I mentioned you had the face of a man destined to defeat Bill, please be assured it was your face I saw. Are you not the one who pulled the trigger, erasing Bill along with your brother’s memories? You are correct that prophetic visions are not absolutes and are subject to interpretation, however, I did see your brother and his fate as well as his triumph._  
_I would like to scold you for believing I would not speak the truth to you but you are not wrong. I did strain your trust by withholding information and for that, I apologize. I did not have the heart to speak of the trials you would endure and the lengths to which you would be forced to stretch in order to finally defeat Cipher and find your and your family’s happiness. You are also correct that I could only speak of that which would ensure the time line’s stability._  
_Please excuse my bluntness and the harsh realities I am about to reveal but it is only fair that you know:_  
_Every scenario in which I revealed additional information to you did, indeed, end less than ideally. In some cases you still defeated Cipher but never made it home. In some, you lost your life both defeating and failing to defeat him. In others you made it home and attempted to gather the members of the zodiac together immediately but no one outside of your family believed you and you were forcibly institutionalized. In every case, even if I told you the dangers of deviating from the time line, you tried to prevent the worst from happening with all of the best intentions and some of the most disastrous results, including a horrifying case in which the guilt of knowing what would happen and following through anyway caused you to spiral into a deep depression and eventually take your own life. As things stand currently, I sense your mental state is shaky at best and you blame yourself for entirely too much. I would be honored to act as a councelor and confidant to you and your family in hopes that all of you will recover in time._  
_Please remember, Stanford Pines, that you are, despite your best attempts to hide it, a man who feels and cares deeply, perhaps so much so that you become overwhelmed and find all you can do is hide what you cannot sort out rather than attempt to express it openly. But make no mistake, you are a hero to the multiverse just as much as your family is. Your brother, however, is your personal hero. You may have trouble believing it, but your family views you as their hero as well. But, I digress._  
_All is well at the temple. Not much has changed since your departure aside from the results of the typical march of time. I’m sure you remember my apprentice was barely as tall as you while you were a resident here. Well, she is fully grown now and nearly ready to take my place which means I will have plenty of time to fill with future correspondence with you, dear friend._  
_I cannot wait to read how you choose to “gush” about your family. If you drop twenty letters into the bottomless pit at… Hmm… Let me translate this to your local time… 12:34 am on November third, at least one of them will make it to me. I can almost see what you have written but it is too blurred in my foresight. I look forward to seeing it with clarity._

_Best regards and many thanks to you,_  
_Jheselbraum the Unswerving_

  
The Oracle was right. Ford felt so many things that he could not sort out any one emotion to release. He smiled despite himself, simply happy to hold a reply between his hands. He read it over and over, absorbing his friend’s words and trying to process his emotions. He finally did read it aloud to Stan, adding in commentary from time to time and listening to his brother’s feedback. Together, they wrote a letter back and included photos and drawings by both themselves and Dipper and Mabel.

On November third, at exactly 12:34 am, Stanford and Stanley delivered twenty copies of their multiple-paged letter to the pit. A response arrived within two weeks with instructions for yet another reply from their end. For many years, the ritual continued and the Pines remained interdimesional pen-pals with the oracle, sharing their family’s news with her while she shared news of the multiverse with them. For those years, Stanford was happy, surrounded by loving friends and family and, with Jheselbraum’s guidance, finally at peace with himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine future Pines generations kept in touch with future oracles over the years...  
> Also Ford's "You know very well that I'm..." is to be left to reader interpretation. Have fun with it :D.


End file.
